


You Can Close The Casket Now

by fandomgeek14



Series: Blood, Brains and Heart- an Morseverse AU [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse (TV), Lewis (TV)
Genre: Bad Writing, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Getting Together, Original Character Death(s), Out of Character, Past Domestic Violence, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomgeek14/pseuds/fandomgeek14
Summary: Being a Morse means that you're going to have a meeting with death at some point in the line of duty.DC Katie Morse just didn't expect it to happen just like this though.....
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Original Female Character(s), James Hathaway/Original Female Character(s), Robert Lewis & Inspector Morse
Series: Blood, Brains and Heart- an Morseverse AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613458
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song, Black Friday from the Starkid musical, Black Friday (i'd recommend you'd check them out if you haven't on YouTube, they've written and performed some of my favourite musicals to date)  
> ...also there's a reason why Morse is out of character and it is intentional, but you'll find out why in chapter 3!  
> also, also, sorry if chapter 1 is bad, or if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes, I wrote it late at night!  
> enjoy the story!

**6th November 2006**

The day had not been a usual one. Well, in terms of police work it was usual, but it was an unusual circumstance Katie had found herself in. Never in a million dreams did she think that she’d be chasing the man who had haunted her dreams for over twenty years and caused her family so much heart ache and misery. You see, Katie was the daughter of two police officers, chief Inspector Morse, who had a bit of a knack for solving crimes and drinking alcohol, and Jemma Thursday, adopted daughter of Inspector Fred Thursday and Winifred Thursday and biological younger sister of Peter Jakes, they never married but were happy, but Jemma was murdered by the man Katie was now chasing on her own with no back up from anyone, in fact she didn’t even think they knew she was there.

The man, Derek Dennings had been an abusive ex boyfriend of her mothers in the sixties, he was sent to prison for the abuse and only got out in the early 80s. upon seeing that Jemma was happy with a boyfriend of twelve years or so and a little daughter, he couldn’t take it and so broke into Morse’s house and shot her on bonfire night in 1985. He resurfaced twenty one years later, killing Jessie Hilton and Professor H.White, just to get the attention of his only witness to the crime.

Well he had gotten it, and Katie had been lured to an alleyway nearby the Lamb and Flag pub, she was told to come alone, as he was apparently giving up. she hadn’t believed that fact, she wasn’t stupid, so she’d come alone but had the right mind to text one of her closest friends, Sally, to let her know where she was so that she could go to the station and inform Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Hathaway what was going on without raising alarm from Derek.

She was not prepared for a knife to the back, though. she’d fallen to the ground, in surprise at the sudden punch like impact, smacking her head on the concrete beneath her. she hadn’t really realised she’d been stabbed until she looked up, to see a Derek, a sixty-something year old man with incredible strength for his age, although he looked as frail as anything. next she felt was pressure on the wound pushing down on her and the assailant speaking.

“got you”

“stop- stop it” the detective cried, trying to reach out and get him off her “please”

“did you really think it was over?”

“why?” is all she managed to get out but it was admittedly difficult, with the pain from the pressure and lying on her stomach.

“figure it out” he smirked “oh and I lied by the way, I’m not handing myself in, I’m going to go and confess my sins and give your mother my best wishes, then go back to the Eagle and Child pub and feign innocence at questioning about witnessing your tragic demise, as unfortunately for you you’ll be dead by the time your friends arrive”

Katie didn’t speak. She shut her eyes, wishing for the situation to just go away. Suddenly the pressure was lifted and she heard footsteps echoing away from her, she opened her eyes, slowly, for only for a few seconds, catching the direction the attacker was walking, across the road and into the church, before her vision blurred and accepting her inevitable fate, she plunged into unconsciousness from the pain.

It was raining when she opened her eyes again, the darkness was starting to creep into the sky, and soon it would be near impossible to find her. But her first thought, wasn’t of dying, oh no, it was of her Nokia phone buzzing lightly. Her invincible brick of a Nokia. She turned her head in the direction of the noise, and sure enough, a few feet away, was her phone. It must have fallen out of her pocket in the scuffle and it was still working, it was her life lie, maybe she didn’t have to die right this second? Maybe he’d have just enough time to say goodbye, maybe just maybe her phone could save her life…. She just had to get to it first. So gritting her teeth which helped to brace herself for the pain, she turned over onto her back.

“Word of advice, Katie, do not move when you have a stab wound” her uncle Max had said (in one of his dry jokes that often flew over Katie’s head) once, when he was round for her sixth birthday along with Uncle Jim, and Aunt Shirley (who had come down from Scotland just to see her) upon her father telling her the story of how he caught a killer who was using the notes of a piano to hint at his next victim “also go to a hospital and not a pathologists office in the event that you do get stabbed”

If she could remember correctly her father had replied dryly that how was he supposed know Gull had a knife in the Bodleian? And that it could have been a lot worse.

Apparently, if your surname is Morse and you’re in the police as a detective constable, you apparently are bound to get stabbed at some point…you’re also bad at taking advice. And Katie was really regretting moving, as she rolled over onto her back with a yell reaching for her phone but adding pressure to the wound once more, it relieved it a little, but to move it really hurt like hell, she needed her phone, and by some miracle, it was now in her right hand. She flipped it up to open it, her hands shaking from the cold and blood loss that was starting to get to her. and saw the barrage of texts and missed calls coming from one contact over fifteen minutes ago:

_Attaway Hathaway_

'Attaway Hathaway' or Sergeant James Hathaway, Katie’s closest friend from University and closest friend in the police force. she only put that nickname to on his contact just to annoy him.

_' **It’s Lewis, we tried your radio, and you didn’t answer, we’re on our way, Jim is driving, wait until we get here before doing something stupid.'**_

**_'Where are you?'_ **

**_'It's Hathaway, the traffic’s bad, can't get there any faster, text us the location you’re at, please Morse, you’re scaring the inspector. He’s about to request out patrol cars and you know how Innocent gets when it’s not necessary.'_ **

Katie’s hands were shaking so much that she could barely text back.

The church, that’s where Derek said he was heading, wasn’t it?

No, wait, what did he say? Going back to the pub? The smug bastard. She’ll show him. even if she doesn’t make it, he’ll still get arrested. She replied to the text, sure it had a few typos in it but she was dying here.

**_'In the Eagle and Child.'_ **

She pressed send and dropped her phone, could feel her strength going, blood loss, so, after dragging herself up against the wall with the remainder of her strength, the pool of blood dragging with her, she pulled out her notebook and pen, turning it over with bloody hands, staining the paper, she wrote what she thought was the best evidence she could think of, a statement. An informal one with very shakey and smudged handwriting, given the circumstances that she didn’t much time left and it was raining so the state of the letter note could be excused.

**_Derek Dennings. for weapon, try panelling in back of church._ **

**_Sorry, I can’t be more of an assistance._ **

**_K.M._ **

She tucked the notebook back into her coat pocket, the top poking out so that it could be seen, then she had nothing to do but wait. she didn’t quite know her surroundings anymore. Blood-loss was making her memory and awareness bad. All she knew was that she was dying and that would be that for the Morse family line, sure her Aunt Joyce and cousin Wayne were still around but, they were Garretts. she looked up, she’s wished there were stars out instead of rain. She liked the stars. She believed when she was little, when her in the early days of her mum’s death, that she was one of them, keeping an eye on her. now that she was older, she didn’t believe that, in fact she wasn’t entirely sure what to believe, but it was a nice memory. Speaking of memories, she was dying in a puddle of blood, water, and drainage from the pipes above her, horrible situation to die from, but she was oddly calm, probably helped by the fact an auburn haired man and a brown haired woman that she’d once seen in her mum’s old photo album, people, she'd only seen in pictures but knew who they were instantly, people who were now bending down by her side and checking on her. 

“you’ve got yourself into a situation” the man said trying to joke, that really didn't sound like the man she grew up with, it was odd. 

“it’s your bloody fault” she smiled weakly

“my fault? how is this my fault?”

“Morse’s and stab wounds don’t mix”

“she has a point” the woman chimed in before turning away from the man, Morse, a younger version of Katie's father, to look at the girl “everything’s going to be okay, the police will be here soon”

“at least Lewis is in charge”

“Lewis is a good policeman, unlike a certain inspector I know, one who drank himself to death”

“there are arguably worse ways to go, Jemma, like being shot and bleeding out onto the kitchen”

“and that's worse than a heart attack? really, _Endeavour_ , really?” Jemma, a younger version Katie's mother spoke with mock annoyance

“I’m trying to die nicely here” Katie muttered interrupting her parents “and you’re mock-arguing about who had a better death”

“we’re not real” Morse informed Katie “it’s your brain, that’s making it happen”

“of course, you’re real, you’re my mum and dad” Katie breathed out smiling once more

“and you’ve lived a good life, if you’re really giving up” Jemma spoke trying to sooth the detective, her daughter.

“I dropped out of university to find the killer only to be killed by said killer” Katie groaned in pain "that's not good"

“you’ve also caught the killer” Jemma pointed out “and you’re more successful at getting romantic interests than your dad was”

“he had you”

“I know, but i got murdered”

“what do you mean by- by that? more romantic-”

“-the Hathaway boy for example anyone can see that-” Morse started before pausing at Katie's confused look “-it doesn’t matter, he'll know”

that sentence did not make sense in Katie's mind and it was starting to worry her, _what will Hathaway know? will she die not letting him know about something that she's forgotten about? what was she forgetting?_

“don’t worry about it now, it’s almost over” Jemma tried to sooth Katie's worries, as her mother, she was trying her best not to worry her daughter even more at the time of her death.

“I’m scared” Katie admitted now fighting back the tears of fear

“we know” Morse smiled at her, okay, Morse never smiled, or rarely smiled, so that was even more odd “but as your mother said, everything will be alright”

“I want to sleep”

“you can’t sleep if you want to live” Morse spoke sternly, now, _that_ was more like her father “don’t be stupid”

“I can’t” is all Katie could manage, talking was wasting her oxygen and draining her energy and she was getting fatigued, struggling to keep her eyes open a little longer, the long dead inspector brushed a hand over her forehead like he used to do when she was a child.

“it’s time to go” Morse said to Jemma before standing up and walking, waiting for her to join him

“no don’t go, please don’t go” Katie breathed her eyes blurring through the tears and tiredness

“we love you” Jemma kissed the top of her forehead, giving her the little comfort she’d longed to feel from her mother for twenty one years, before standing up and slipping her hand into Morse’s who looked content with the contact, and not turning back to the dying detective in the thundering rain, walked away.

“please don’t go, don’t leave me” Katie sobbed as her eyes closed, the fatigue setting in, the last of her strength leaving her as her eyes fluttered to a close

“….I don’t want to be alone”

And she sunk deep into the never-ending abyss of darkness, waiting to welcome us all in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Remember, The Fifth of November....  
> or, What happened in 1985, in accordance to what Katie could remember from the event.

**Twenty one years, and one day ago- 5th of November 1985**

The first thing, Katie remembers about that day in November 1985, is standing in the kitchen, in her white polo shirt, dark grey pinafore and dark blue cardigan, feeling sick as the smell of burned bacon filling the air and watching her mum trying not to burn the house down or set the fire alarm off. she never could master cooking bacon, it was always overdone, and her dad tried to cook it once and he nearly burned down the house as well. 

"you'll get better, Joan said, cooking takes time to learn, time is not not twenty five years" her mum, Jemma was muttering to herself "today's going to be a long day"

"cooking has never been your strong point" her father, Morse, pointed out coming into the kitchen moving past the little girl in the hallway 

"yes, thank you, i didn't need that pointing out" she sighed disposing the charcoal coloured meat in the bin and looked over at her daughter with a smile "sorry, looks like it's cornflakes for breakfast"

Katie sent her a wiry smile, as her stomach felt as if it twisted, the feeling she got when she was nervous- but she wasn't nervous. 

"mummy, I don't feel very well" she replied. as her mum gave her a concerned look before crouching down to her height. 

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” She asked, checking her forehead with the back of her hand “you’re slightly warm” she commented before turning to get a Thermometer from the medicine bag in the top right cupboard. 

“Tummy feels poorly” Katie answered

“Well, are you up for school? You might have to stay at home if you’ve got a temperature” 

Katie’s eyes widened in panic “no! I have to go to school! I’ve got a spelling test and I can’t miss it” she shook her head violently struggling not to panic at the thought of missing school. Of course, she was the weird child who actually liked school (at that point in time) and would be sent out of a loop if she missed it. 

weirdly enough she could remember her dad pouring himself a cup of coffee as this exchange was going on, he often kept out of his daughters 'tantrums' (they weren't tantrums, more, panics) at that stage. it's quite funny, the odd details you remember on a day that tragedy strikes. 

"alright, you're not going to miss school" Jemma managed to calm her down as she noticed there wasn't a temperature on the thermometer she'd stuck in her daughter's ear. 

"it's probably just nerves, those spellings were quite difficult to get your head around" Morse reassured the little girl 

"are you up to eating something?" her mum asked

Katie shook her head. 

"alright, i'll pack some fruit in your school bag for you to eat when you're up for it" Jemma smiled "now, go and brush your teeth and i'll have a glass of water on the table for you when you get back" 

Katie then just remembers being packed off to school, her best friend from across the road, Sally and her mum picking her up and getting the bus with them to school....before vomiting and her mum picking her up an hour or so after she’d been dropped off. 

She’d been sent to bed when she got home (after having a bath to clean off the stench of vomit from her) and she’d slept until the six ish, which was when she was woken up by fireworks. she used to love the fireworks, the greens, reds, blues yellows, it was honestly the best thing for a five year old and the noise wasn't too loud for once as she was inside! but it was as she was watching the fireworks that she heard a loud bang, just as a red one went up, it was big and loud anfd it sounded as if it had come from inside the house, and then seconds later she saw a man in a dark hood step away from the door. 

'poor door salesman, not being able to go to a firework display is horrible' she remembers thinking. but she really should have payed more attention to the man, or what was sticking out of his pocket because it would have saved a lot more trouble later. 

* * *

The next thing that happened is seared into her mind for eternity. She put her teddy down on the windowsill, not wanting him to miss the fireworks of course, and run downstairs to get her mum to come and see the really big ones.... only to find her mother, slumped down on the floor against the kitchen sideboard, blood covering the entire floor, having bled out from the failed attempt to put pressure on the wound. 

“Mummy?” 

“Mummy, wake up mummy” Katie hurried over to her mum dropping to her knees and shaking her or as much as a five year old could. She’d never forget the deathly cold and pale tone her skin was, or the strand of hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat that had been created as she presumably panicked. 

The five year old didn’t know what to do, she hadn’t been told what to do in this situation. So she did the only thing she could think of. Getting her best friend, Sally’s mum. 

Maybe she could help.

* * *

Mrs Maria Johnson must’ve been taken aback by the appearance of the pale skinned, blood soaked five year old crying on the foot of her doorstep, as anyone would. She’d questioned Katie and phoned the police but she couldn’t really remember much of those few minutes before the police came. 

She did remember being checked over by an paramedic and social services turning up to look after her and being terrified that they would take her away. 

She was in the back ambulance, refusing to be looked at and screaming for her mum when her dad got there, with Superintendent Strange in the passengers seat, of course, when Strange had realised that it was Morse’s residence that had been the crime scene he’d needed to over himself he was friends with Jemma, and had been for almost if not as long as Morse so he knew it was all hands on deck, not that he was going to let Morse go anywhere near the actual crime scene, it was protocol of course, and whatever state Jemma was in, well, he didn’t want him to see that. 

Morse had been staring at the scene in front of him, searching the scene for a small child, who he hoped had not been hurt in anyway possible, when he heard the cries of the terrified little girl, and turning to the ambulance he’d noticed that she was sat crying for her mum, and nothing was consoling her, not even the constable who was trying to calm her down. The bloody idiot was saying all the wrong things and only making her even more upset by it, treating her like an adult rather than the five year old that she was. (That DC had got a stern talking to from the inspector afterwards about bedside manor, not that Morse was any good at that either)

Katie could remember standing with her dad outside watching the policemen and paramedics go in and out of the house, grasping her teddy that had been fetched by the house from a nice policewoman, so tightly that if it was alive it would be screaming for her to loosen her grasp, shaking from the shock and barely registering Strange and Max DeBryn walking out of the house and talking to her dad as a body bag was wheeled out behind them. 

She was interviewed in Mrs Johnson's living room by Inspector Bottomley against her dad's protest that should be anyone but that inspector to conduct the interview. she had to give a witness statement and from what she could remember, Bottomley was nice to her and was more careful with her during the interview considering she was a child, she of course, couldn't remember much else, as she'd been very shaken up, not crying, no, as she really didn't understand fully what had happened, she was mostly just sitting quietly giving one word answers, according to her dad, until he took over the questioning, under Strange's permission of course, when Bottomley decided it was no bloody use questioning her any further, at which point the girl had told him what she could remember, from the build up. which, wasn't much, in fact, she couldn't even remember the man in the hood. she couldn't remember Derek bloody Dennings and now twenty one years later she was paying for that. 

all she could remember was the loud firework and her mum's body. 

the interview was terminated and her dad drove her in the Jag, having given the all clear by Strange, to leave her at his sister, Katie's aunt Joyce's house for a few weeks whilst he worked on the case (although he shouldn't have been doing that) and until she was ready to step back into the house. it was an honest attempt to shield her from the reality. One that, although physically helped, didn't prevent the nightmares from haunting her every time she closed her eyes. 

or the chaos it would cause later on in life. 


End file.
